Sins Of Our Fathers
by Cher Sue
Summary: AU/AH-Damon Salvatore has always been fiercely protective over his sister, Elena, but things turn complicated when romantic feelings begin to develop. The odds are stacked against them, particularly when Elena becomes betrothed to Elijah, a duke. The Salvatore family is wracked with secrets, the biggest one threatening to tear them all apart: Elena's true lineage. Taboo/Angst/Humor
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

**Welcome to my 4th story to those who have author-alerted me. As for those who are unfamiliar with my name, just a simple welcome, then!**

**For those who know my style of writing, you'd know that I like my mixture of angst, a lot of humor, some naughty bits inserted here and there, some childish pranks or games, corny/cheesy dialogues, some mystery, drama and my cliffhangers. Oh, the wicked cliffhangers. *wink* **

**You'd also know that I'm totally out of my comfort zone here in this story set in the Victorian era in England, and attempting to write British English. Serves me right for trying to challenge myself and do something completely different. I sometimes want to throttle myself, truth be told. In fact, I might even have been successful at one point or another had it not been for my survival instincts. **

**I felt that a little warning would be appropriate here, since I do not know what I'm doing, and after some research, the situation has NOT improved in the slightest! So, throw out your high expectations, because I WILL sorely disappoint you. The characters may seem totally OOC in this story, and of course, do not even get me started on fact versus fiction. Oh, and it'll also have an incestuous theme so if you are not a fan of that, then please stop reading right****…..now****.**

**I just have a story to tell, a DELENA story, and for some reason it has to be set in England. I'm tweaking a little bit of history and basic common sense for this story, so please throw all your prior knowledge or notion of the past and just take in this story for purely entertainment/boredom values. In other words, just check your brain at the door and you'll have it back by the end of the story. Thank you!**

* * *

**SINS OF OUR FATHERS - Introduction**

_-Damon Salvatore, Marquess of Hartington-_

_People say sometimes one cannot help with whom they fall in love. _

_I would have thrown my head back and laughed at them had I been told of that absurdity. Surely, there's such a notion as willpower? It boggles the mind how weak-minded people can be, unable to control their baser emotions, or simply confusing intoxicating lust for the delusion that is love. If one has their wits about them, surely such a frivolous concept is unnecessary? _

_As the eldest son and heir to the dukedom of Devonshire – a title and honor currently held by my father, Giuseppe Salvatore or better known as His Grace, the Duke of Devonshire - I stood atop the very height of nobility but found myself neither needing nor wanting love or marriage. Marriages among the ton are for no other reason than to fulfill a duty to beget an heir and carry on the family lineage._

_Perhaps that responsibility should fall onto the shoulders of my younger brother, Stefan. I had no such interest, nor the time to put such efforts into a marriage of convenience. _

_I have witnessed with my very own eyes what a life of marriage is akin to. I've lived it. A man marries a woman of acceptable social standings, impregnates her, and then leaves her in a mansion full of servants while he carries on his dalliance with his numerous paramours. This is deemed an appropriate and gentlemanly behavior amongst the ton. The ton, being the upper class society of England who held esteemed titles that were passed down from generation to generation. People who hold their noses up in the air by doing nothing but attend endless balls and plays and gossip among themselves about the latest scandal to besmirch a member of the realm. _

_How is it _not_ scandalous for a man to conduct an affair with a woman other than his wife out in public? Hypocrites, the lot of them._

_In case it isn't obvious, I have become increasingly jaded and cynical in my years of living the privileged life I have led. I worked tirelessly and performed my duties to my estate diligently, increasing my wealth twofold as soon as I've come of age. I found immense satisfaction in reaping the benefits of my lifestyle; from the women who came to my bed willingly, to all the comforts money could buy. It used to be enough. _

_Until I fell in love. _

_It seems as if people _were_ right, after all. One _cannot_ help with whom they fall in love._

_So, this is my story, of how I fell head over heels for my own sibling; my youngest sister - and how I lost her. _

_Nay, this is OUR story. _

_Shall I tell it to you? _

* * *

**Prologue **_**(through the eyes of Damon Salvatore)**_

~.~

_1866, December Twenty-First – Chatsworth House, Derbyshire_

_~.~_

With a deep shuddering breath, I collapsed onto her, my body melting against her soft and pliant flesh that I had thoroughly explored just moments ago. Her body trembled against mine, still wracked with aftershocks of our stolen moment where we had finally succumbed to our passion; one that had been steadily building for years, only to burst into a full inferno that engulfed us on the night before the wedding.

Only, _I_ wasn't the blessed groom-to-be.

Placing a soft and tender kiss upon her bare shoulder, I lifted my head a little to peer down at the woman in my arms, watching her face flicker with remnants of rapture that we invoked together, her eyes clenched tightly shut. Her lips were still swollen from my earlier assault, her skin covered in faint red lines from being scuffed by the coarse hair along my jaw line.

My evening began with the usual festivities that occur before a union between two of the most prominent families in England. As visitors from afar arrived in droves, I found myself tucked away in one of the corners of the many libraries in the house, a half-drunk bottle of the finest bourbon in one hand and a hand-written letter meant for the bride clutched tightly in the other. I had been at war with myself, unclear if I should quietly slip away unnoticed in the midst of the merriment, or if I should bid one last farewell to the love of my life.

Despite my brain telling me otherwise, I chose the latter.

I showed up in her bedchamber after everyone had retired to see her one last time. I _went_ to announce my immediate departure and to wish her a lifetime of happiness, but I _lingered_ to allow her to convince me to stay, at least until I could bear to physically tear myself away.

After the events of the night, how the hell was I supposed to leave her behind now? But how could I stay and watch her marry another man who couldn't _possibly_ love her as much as I do? It was a dilemma of epic proportions, and I couldn't fathom how something that felt so right could be deemed so wrong.

I lifted my hand and brushed my thumb over a stray tear that escaped from the corner of her eyes, immediately regretting the brief pain I had caused her as I took her virginity. Nay, when she _offered_ it to me, her beautiful warm brown eyes pleading for me to make her a woman in her own bed. I could never deny her anything, not when she flashed those doe-eyes at me. Not when I could see the _need_ in them as if she'd die if I didn't give in to her pleas.

Those unique eyes of hers flew open at my touch, and I saw my own reflection in their shimmering depths. I had never seen myself so at peace, even with the internal war raging inside my head.

"I love you," I selfishly declared.

Another tear spilled over her lid, and her lips quivered before they parted. "And I love _you_. Always and forever."

I dipped my head to claim her lips again, tasting her for one last time before she belonged to another man for the rest of her life. My heart twisted violently at the thought of her with him, her skin touched and caressed by a strange set of lips, hands, her body writhing under his on another bed. I imagined her vowing to love him for an eternity, bearing his children and that caused me to break the kiss to groan out in pain, my own eyes tearing up at the thought of losing her.

"Damon, I will _never_ love another as I love you. This I promise you," she implored in a soft whisper, her arms wrapping me tighter to her. She remained the only woman who was able to read my inner thoughts like an open book, keenly deducting the reason for my inner turmoil. "I will never want another as I want you. I will never belong to another as I belong to you. Tonight was proof of that."

Yes, she was mine for the night, but what of the future? It was beginning to seem so bleak and empty already, and we were still intimately connected for the moment. Tomorrow would be yet another day, one that would permanently take her from me as she bore another man's name.

"I can't let you marry him," I choked out when the ache in my chest became too great that it was beginning to get harder to breathe.

"W-what?"

Her bewildered gaze made the decision for me. She had already resigned herself to be stuck in yet another marriage of convenience that seemed to be acceptable amongst the ton, all because she thought we couldn't be together. Traditionally, we _couldn't_ but there was a small flicker of hope that we could change that, provided we were willing to make sacrifices. Substantial ones.

"Run away with me, Elena," I suddenly blurted out, my voice strengthening at my latest resolve. "We could leave England and settle down in a foreign land where no one has ever heard of us. We could travel the world as man and wife under a different name, see all the things that you've always wanted to see, learn things that you've wanted to learn. We could leave all this behind and start anew."

"And what of our family?" she asked, her forehead creasing as she considered my rather insane proposal. "Your title, your lands?"

I pulled her upright so that we now sat facing each other, her long caramel-coloured tresses spilling delectably over her shoulders and chest. I had to pull myself together when my attention was momentarily distracted by two pink nipples that I was obsessed with. "We leave _everything_ and _everyone_ behind," I stressed, forcing my gaze to return to her face, watching her with pensive eyes. I could see her mentally struggling to grasp the idea of us running away together, and essentially losing everything else in the process. It may be too much to ask for, too much to hope for.

"We can never come home again," she whispered. It wasn't a question but more of a foregone conclusion. I nodded in agreement, knowing the enormity of the sacrifice we'd both be making, all for the sake of being together. Then I realized that she still didn't know the truth about her past.

"Listen, there is something you need to know, something that very few people know. It's about your birth-"

"Damon," she said urgently, shaking her head at me as I was about to launch into the whole tale. "There is no time for bedtime stories now. The servants will be awake in two hours, and there is a wedding that requires my presence as the bride in less than eight. The entire house will be filled with guests and relatives, so if we want to slip past everyone unnoticed, it has to be right _now_."

I stared at her with my mouth agape, admiring her composure despite the decision she had made on her own and then I realized that she was right; it was now or never.

"Are you certain? You _really_ want to do this? You realize that there will be no turning back after this, right?" It was ridiculous how much joy I felt that she was willing to put her entire life aside just to be with me. I was just as astounded to find that I was also very much willing to give up everything I had worked for to have a future with this one woman, even if I had to live without the comforts of life that I had taken for granted.

The old Damon Salvatore would not approve. Of course, the old Damon Salvatore was also a lonely and pathetic fool.

"There's a reason we have eyes on the front of our heads, my lord. We are _supposed_ to look ahead, to see where we'll be going instead of where we've been. Otherwise, we'd all be running into walls and stepping on animal droppings, wouldn't we?" she teased coyly, making me chuckle at her quip. She had to be the most courageous woman I have ever known, and she was mine.

I couldn't help myself. I kissed her again, my heart thudding now for entirely different reasons. It was filled with hope and joy, something only Elena had been able to invoke in my cold, jaded heart. I had to force myself to reluctantly release her after promising to make it up to her in the not-so-distant future, and untangle our limbs from each others' as we left her bed.

I saw the evidence of her commitment to me on the sheets we had lain on, the crimson-stained silk providing a glaringly obvious reality of what had transpired in her bed tonight. Her virtue was supposed to be reserved for her husband, but I had robbed him of it, just as our decision to run away now would be robbing him of a wife.

I felt no guilt as I gathered her into my arms for a quick hug, silently telling her that it would all be all right. She had given me two very precious gifts; her innocence and her heart. It was now my turn to bestow my gifts upon her, if she'll have them. By the end of our journey, I intended to marry her when we finally settled down in one place. I wanted to give her children, and build a life with her, a future where we no longer had to hide our relationship. I planned to propose right after I told her the truth about her identity.

Pressing my lips against her forehead, I smiled down at her as I then wrapped her nude form with a discarded robe that I had peeled off of her earlier. "I will go back to my quarters and gather a few essentials, so I need you to get dressed and meet me at the stables in a quarter of an hour. Take nothing with you and do not say a word to anyone of our plans. Pretend that you're going out for a walk if you meet anyone on your way out. If someone were to see us leaving together on the eve of your wedding, they might think that something is amiss and sound an alarm. You need to act as if-"

"Damon, you seem to have forgotten that it's _me_ you're talking to. Elena Salvatore, troublemaker with a penchant for disappearances? I _have_ managed to sneak out of the house before….numerous times, in fact," she gently reminded me with a small smile. "Remember when I ran away in an attempt to visit you when you went off to boarding school when I was a mere child of six years old? I could have gotten away with it, too, had it not been for that awfully tall horse that refused to let me climb him."

My lips curved upwards at that fond memory. She had caused such uproar when the stableboy caught her trying to negotiate with the horse to sit down so that she could reach its mane. "You were utterly adorable, even way back then," I complimented sincerely before reminding her to be careful and to use the northwest exit of the house to minimize risks of detection.

"'Til we meet again, Brown Eyes."

* * *

After a very hasty attempt to pack several items of importance in a small satchel, I managed to slip past a dozing footman at the north entrance, taking a different route to my destination to avoid attracting attention to Elena's escape. It pained me to resort to stealthy behaviors just to have a semblance of a future with my beloved, but I knew that it was inevitable.

Keeping an eye and ear out for any staff who might have ventured out for a midnight stroll along the grounds, I hurried over to our rendezvous point, eager to be united with my love. The night seemed to have fallen under a darker cloak than usual as there was not a single star that I could see. The air seemed too heavy, too still, as if it too, was holding its breath until I was once again reunited with Elena. I heaved a sigh of relief as soon as I spotted her standing half-hidden in the shadows, waiting by the doors of the building.

"Damon!" she exclaimed in relief as soon as I reached her, her arms embracing me hungrily as if we hadn't just seen each other just minutes prior to this.

My eyes narrowed as soon as I caught sight of her apparel when she drew back from my embrace. "Elena, what are you wearing? You'll catch your death of a cold if you go around in that," I told her.

Under a bright red hooded cloak that reached her ankles, she wore a simple cream-coloured flannel nightgown that appeared to be loose on her small frame, and under it, what I assumed to be a camisole over a pair of drawers and a thin chemise that did nothing to provide much of a protection against the winter wind. Her attire was finished off with stockings and half-boots that were at least appropriate for the amount of travelling we would be undertaking. But that red cloak of hers made me kiss the idea of stealth goodbye.

"Well, I had to keep up the ruse of only going for a quick stroll for some air. I can't very well be wearing my travelling clothes when I am supposed to be retiring early for my wedding day tomorrow, can I?" she reminded me as she swiftly covered herself with her cloak, fastening up the buttons up to her neck when chills swept over her body.

"Lucky I did so, too, as I wasn't as sneaky as I thought. Giles was having a smoke right outside the doors when I accidentally bumped into him as I was leaving and I had to tell him that I was going for a walk to calm my nerves," she admitted, referring to our butler, Rupert Giles.

In a nutshell, Giles was the last person that either one of us wanted to run into. He was the head of staff and exceedingly meticulous in his responsibilities of running the household. He was also very astute, and would most likely be searching for Elena even as we speak!

I quickly pulled her into the stables, thankfully finding it much warmer on the inside. I led her over to her horse, Spirit – a tanned handsome and docile Peruvian Paso known for their strength, stamina and ability to provide its rider with a smooth ride with its natural four-beat footfall – and immediately began to saddle the beast, and then making sure that the bridle was properly secured. Meanwhile, I was busy issuing directions for the first leg of our journey.

"We'll stay off the roads for now and follow along the banks of River Derwent. We'll be riding over to the town of Matlock where we'll ditch our horses and charter an unmarked coach to London."

A gasp escaped from her lips. "We can't leave the horses behind! What if somebody steals them? Or harms them? Spirit and Knight shall come with us," she insisted, her chin lifted up in an unwavering certainty.

I threw her an exasperated glance before starting to work on my own horse, Knight. He was a majestic-looking Hanoverian warmblood, its coat a shiny midnight black colour. I was inclined to agree with Elena about the horses as I was extremely fond of him myself, having personally trained him from foal, but I had to be practical as much as it saddened me.

"I wish we could, Elena, but the horses have to stay behind. They are too easily recognizable and it would be far too risky to be spotted with two missing horses. It would be more practical to travel without any links to our former identities so as not to attract unwanted attention," I explained with a heavy heart. I knew I was right but it didn't make it any easier. "I'll make sure that they are taken care of and sent back here before we leave for London. Once we get to there, we'll decide our next destination that can either be reached by train or a ship."

It was time.

"Come along, Brown Eyes, it's time to go," I called over to her as she gazed sadly at her horse, her hand stroking its neck lovingly as she prepared to say goodbye. "With any luck, we'd be at Matlock within the hour and hopefully before anybody realizes that you're gone. That'll give us some time before they start the search party."

As she moved closer to me, I pulled her to stand before me, my eyes sweeping over her features to see if she'd changed her mind about leaving. She could still go through with the wedding with no one the wiser about what we almost did tonight. No one, except me. Suddenly, I didn't feel very confident about our decision that was made on a whim.

"I want to do this, Damon. I want to live my life without being told what to do and who to be with. I don't ever want to look back and wonder if I should have left when I had the opportunity to be happy. I love you and I'm coming. Just try and stop me," she announced haughtily before attempting to mount Spirit herself.

My hand shot out to stop her, not to convince her to reconsider but to bury my lips on hers yet again, for what seemed like the hundredth time today. When I pulled back, I had the widest grin on my face and I said nothing more as I reached up to remove my dark blue greatcoat and draped it over her shoulders, making sure that she was bundled up tightly before I lifted her onto her saddle.

There, at least she was camouflaged under it, her own red cloak now hidden from view. I stifled her objections by arguing that I would rather lose her to a duke than to lose her to pneumonia.

As I mounted my own horse, I looked over at her expectant expression and nodded briefly, signaling for her to follow closely. I kept my horse on a consistent trot since we were still within earshot of the occupants of the house, keeping within the cover of the woods that surrounded the vast property. We were just about to speed up when the fog around us thickened, covering over us like a pressure-filled container. The chilly wind picked up speed, blowing over us and making me shiver from the absence of my greatcoat.

"I think it's about to rain," I called back over my shoulder at the hunched figure on my left, finding her bracing against a particularly strong gust of wind. Leaves rolled around the ground and at the feet of the horses, a sure sign that a storm was rapidly approaching. No sooner than that thought had crossed my mind that the sky lit up in a sudden dazzling flash of light followed by a low rumbling akin to a deafening roar of a wild beast.

The brief lightening of the sky provided me with a clear view of Elena's terrified expression and I slowed down so that she rode aside me, knowing her irrational fear of water and thunder ever since she was a little girl. There was a time when I knew a moment of pure terror when she almost drowned in a creek that my brother and I were playing in.

"You all right over there?"

She cast worried eyes at the sky and then turned her troubled gaze at me. "I don't much like the rain," she admitted, raising her voice to be heard over the howling breeze. "Or thunder."

I nodded my understanding, moving as close as possible to her as much as the distance of our horses allowed. "If it starts pouring, we'll stop to take cover. I don't think anyone's foolish enough to brave a raging storm during winter to search for us. Not unless they would like pneumonia as a Christmas gift."

She smiled in relief and agreed. "Where do you think we will be by Christmas?" she asked excitedly, eager to keep her mind off the weather.

"I don't know. That's the _beauty_ of this plan; there _is_ no plan. We'll just go where the wind takes us…we have nothing but tim-" I broke off abruptly at the sound of hooves behind us. It was still faint which meant that the pursuer may still be quite a distance away, but it alerted us to the fact that we were running out of time. I certainly didn't expect for the so-called cavalry to be on our trail so soon.

"It must be Giles," Elena called out in a panic, her speed gaining as soon as she realized that we were most likely being followed. "He saw me leaving and he must have thought that he was coming to save me from the storm."

I could not argue with her reasoning. "We should make haste! Head to the river!"

I felt the first drop of rain on my forehead and soon, the sky opened up as the heavens poured over us, drenching us within mere seconds. Slightly behind me, Spirit neighed loudly, its ears stiffening and nostrils flaring when the sky lit up again, another angry bellow following it almost immediately.

It was not a good sign.

I dug my heels into Knight's sides, urging it to quicken its pace even more so that we were now galloping across the woods, stealth be damned. The rain was falling in heavy pelts now, their drumming masking our progress from our pursuers.

Visibility was a challenge, and so was the fact that Elena was becoming more and more anxious with the constant rumblings around us. She was a competent rider on her best days, even better than some of the men I had ridden with, but on _this_ night, she was battling with Mother Nature as well as her own personal irrational childhood fear.

Out of concern for her, I attempted to slow down in order for her to keep up, forcing Knight to go around fallen trees instead of jumping over them. That caused us the lead we had over Giles or whoever it was that was trailing us. And then I heard it.

"Lady Salvatore!" a man's voice had yelled out, sounding like it was coming from just under fifty yards behind us. "I think I see her! She's on a horse!"

Damnation! It appeared as if Giles _had_ called the cavalry to 'rescue' Elena. And they were almost upon us.

Instinctively, I veered off course towards a particularly dense part of the woods, searching for some form of shelter. I led her right behind the thickest bunch of trees and leaped down from my horse just as she came to a stop beside me.

"Why are we stopping? They are gaining on us," she wondered fearfully, her eyes widening as she peered around us.

"Change of plans; we'll have to split up," I said hurriedly, already starting to help her down to the ground. Without wasting precious time, I hoisted her up to Knight's saddle and secured her in place as I made my explanations. "Forget about Matlock. We can't risk being seen there now. Stay on this side of the river but keep heading south towards Leicester. Look for a village named Mountsorrel just south of Loughborough. There's a castle that belongs to the Earl of Leicester right in the village centre off Watling Street. Tell the staffs that you are a friend of Alaric and that you need to send word to him to meet you there. They should provide a refuge for you until I get there. If anyone asks, your name is Elena Gilbert."

"W-what?" she blinked in shock. "No, I'm not going anywhere without you! We'll wait here quietly until they give up and then we'll both leave together. Don't send me away alone, Damon," she beseeched in hushed tones, aware of the sound of approaching hooves.

Shaking my head regretfully, I had to make sure that she understood the situation fully. "Giles loves you and he's not going to stop searching for you, especially when he thinks you're out here alone and in danger. If we both stay or leave together, then we'll be as good as caught. Trust me; I'll catch up with you. Just wait here until the coast is clear while I lead them away and then you make your move. There'll be looking for _your_ horse, not mine. Keep your head down and your hood up, don't talk to anyone, don't turn back, don't look for me, and for God's sake, be safe!"

She didn't argue but I could see her fighting back tears when she pressed her lips tightly together. I lifted my hand to grip hers tightly, feeling her frozen fingers shaking from the cold. I patted the satchel I had packed earlier with the other hand. "There's some money in here if you need any. And you can trust Alaric…he knows about us. He'll be able to provide you some assistance if you need anything else before I come for you. And I _will_ come for you, Elena. I promise."

She nodded stiffly, unable or unwilling to say anything else for fear of losing control over her emotions. I was just about to pull her to me when we heard men's voices, _three_ of them just several stones' throw away from our hiding place. I held a finger against my lips, indicating for her to remain still. With one last look at her terrified face, I grasped Spirit's reins firmly in my hand, leading him quietly away on foot.

As soon as we reached a flatter clearing, I jumped onto his back, tugging his reins as I brought him into a full gallop to the opposite direction of where I left Elena and my heart behind. I could hear the sound of the men changing course when they heard the racket I was making and I hope to God that my distraction would give her the chance to escape.

In fact, I was counting on it.

* * *

_1866, December Twenty-Second – Mountsorrel Castle_

~.~

The sun was at its highest point in the sky by the time I had crossed over the border of Mountsorrel. The journey from Derbyshire to Leicester should have taken little more than three hours for a carriage ride on a typical day. The previous night's volatile weather had left massive devastation everywhere I went, the rain only starting to let up just after dawn had broken.

I managed to evade Elena's pursuers soon after we separated, but the persistent rain forced me to seek shelter while I tried to calm Spirit down. It was ironic that the horse was as skittish as his mistress when it came to lightning and thunder storms. Confident that I had given Elena a solid lead time towards our new rendezvous point, I decided to wait out the storm until visibility improved.

So, I spent the most part of the night bonding with her horse at an old abandoned barn just outside of Rowsley, a town situated right about the midway point to Matlock, our original destination. Without my coat, I was freezing to death so I curled up against the horse in a desperate attempt to get warm even though sleep evaded me.

There I was, a former nobleman of the realm, choosing to throw away my inheritance and the various comforts of life, all for the love of a girl. Although, she was _some_ girl.

At the break of dawn, I was on the move again, the orange skies provided me with a clearer view of the destruction left behind by Mother Nature. Roads were flooded, paths blocked by fallen trees and heavy rocks that were loosened by water. I guided Spirit through muddy trails on our seemingly endless journey, stopping only briefly to nourish the weary horse. Even so, we arrived much later than I had anticipated, my spirits lifting only when I caught sight of the stone walls of the castle I had often visited in the past.

I rode directly to the stables where I must have caused a sensation with the stable hands with my appearance, looking a little worse for wear. I left instructions for Spirit to be tended to, patting its neck for bearing with me on such a perilous journey. Peering around, I searched for my familiar black beauty, Knight, but there was no sign of him anywhere. Puzzled, I made my way to the main part of the house, where I was quickly ushered in by a footman who knew of my acquaintance with Alaric.

"Has the Earl arrived yet? I would imagine that he would have arrived before me but I did not see his carriage outside," I asked by way of greeting as I attempted to scrape the mud from my boots.

"B-but Lord Salvatore, his lordship is not expected here until after they return from Derbyshire for a wedding," he answered, looking surprised by my question.

"Well, that wedding's cancelled," I replied drily, "so I suspect he'll be arriving at any moment. Did Lady Gilbert not send word to him when she arrived? Where _is_ she?"

"W-where is _who_, my lord?"

I should probably speak to Ric about hiring a more competent staff, if this one was any indication. "Lady Elena Gilbert? A pretty brunette with large eyes, about yea high?" I indicated to my nose with my right hand, my patience wearing thin. Surely the Earl doesn't have strange women appearing on his doorstep on a regular basis. "She should have arrived early this morning on a horse, in her nightclothes, no less."

My slightly more detailed description didn't seem to have any effect, it seemed like. "We have received no such woman that befits your description, my lord. Perhaps her ladyship is late?"

Late? Surely not, when she had quite a head start before me. Although, she could have also sought shelter somewhere along the way, preferring not to continue on in that dastardly weather. Perhaps she would be arriving soon. Perhaps she had gotten lost as she was unfamiliar with places outside of home.

"No matter, I shall wait here for them if you don't mind. I would appreciate an opportunity to clean up, even a set of clean clothes? And then I would like to send a note to your master as well, if he's not already on his way home."

Apparently relieved that I was no longer demanding answers to my complicated questionings, he hurriedly agreed and issued a few instructions to several staff to see to it that I was attended to. Despite being anxious to see Elena again, I did appreciate the chance to freshen up and be attired in dry clothes, for a change. At least that footman had the sense to send up some soup and a plateful of ham and potatoes after a long night of having nothing but salty rainwater in my mouth.

And then nightfall came, and I was at once worried and restless when both of them remained elusive. Now nursing a glass of bourbon in one hand, I paced the length of the drawing room that had a large window overlooking the wide expanse of grounds leading up to the entrance of the building. Every so often I would peer out into the darkening night, only to be repeatedly disappointed when the drive remained empty.

A servant had just cleared a full tray of supper that remained untouched when I heard the sound of clip clops; an approaching coach that bore the crest of Leicester.

"Ric!"

My relief of seeing my old and most trusted friend was evident as I hurried over to greet the sandy-haired man, my hand clapping him on his back as soon as he entered through a set of double doors.

"Damon, I'm so sorry," he mumbled, appearing a little harried when he met my gaze.

"No need to apologize, old friend. Better late than never," I assured him, thinking that he was referring to his tardiness after receiving my summons. I was certain that his delay was due to the conditions of the roads from the night before.

He gazed at me worriedly for a moment, his eyes taking in my appearance and then a look of understanding dawned on him. "Oh God, you don't know, do you?"

I started shaking my head, my forehead creasing when I realized that he was alone. "Where's Jenna? Didn't she return with you?"

He took a deep breath and sighed before dismissing the staffs that were lingering in the hallway, awaiting for instructions. "There's something you should know, Damon. The wedding…it was called off," he explained and I stood there, waiting to hear what was happening back home when they discovered that Elena and I had run away. Or perhaps they thought that she had run away, and I was simply being myself; pulling a disappearing act without any warning during the most important event of the year.

"There was an accident last night, and they fear that - God, I don't know how to say this - they fear that Elena may have drowned."

_What_?!

* * *

_1866, December Twenty-Third (early morning) – Chatsworth House, Derbyshire_

_~.~_

The entire house was bathed with lights despite the hour. There was no one to rush forward to greet us, no one to open the door to Ric's coach when it pulled up right at the entrance of my home. It seemed eerily quiet as even the wintry wind stopped howling around us.

Ric was right beside me as we alighted down the steps to enter the building, not knowing what we would find. I walked in to see several servants huddled in a far corner with tears on their faces, whispering in hushed tones as our presence remained unnoticed. After a brief search to find most of the rooms at the front of the house empty, I finally spotted a subdued Randy, my father's valet exiting from the nursery.

"Randy," I called out, hurrying over to intercept him. "Is my family in there?"

"My Lord," he whispered with a sheen of tears in his eyes, his face looking like it had aged greatly since the night we left. "You're home…Her Grace would be pleased to see you," he nodded at the room he just left, and then with a downcast expression, slowly shook his head as he walked on, his shoulders suspiciously heaving silently.

"I'll wait out here while you talk to your family. I wouldn't want to intrude," Ric spoke from behind me, and I nodded absently as I braced myself for my family's reaction to my appearance.

I never expected to see any of their faces, or to step foot inside my childhood home again when I left that fateful night. Of course, there were a lot of things that came to pass that I never expected. I certainly didn't anticipate the embrace my brother Stefan bestowed upon me as soon as I entered the room. I didn't return it because my gaze was riveted with something other than him.

My mother was sobbing hysterically in a corner near the window, one hand clutching Elena's favorite toy, Lord Cuddleworth – a stuffed bear that I had given her when she had turned seven - in one hand while the other was gripping a familiar item; a bright red hooded cloak she had been wearing when we made our escape. Only now, the fabric was torn and tattered.

"No!"

My denial escaped me in a tortured moan before I realized it, and I was on my knees, my heart breaking into pieces as reality finally struck me. It didn't seem possible when Ric had broken the news to me earlier, but now, seeing her jacket in that state, and my family's grieving faces….

All I could think about was the last time I looked upon her, surrounded by darkness, and trees and rain. There wasn't time for a goodbye, only a whispered promise that I would come for her. She looked terrified that I was leaving her, but it had to be done for her to make it out of there.

Bud she _didn't_ make it out. I had sent her on a journey that had resulted in her death. I had been selfish by wanting to keep her for myself, unwilling for her to be married to someone else because I loved her. I had practically forced her to venture out alone during a dangerous storm, handling a horse that she wasn't familiar with.

All because I had kept Father's secret all these years from my mother, my brother, the rest of the world and most importantly, Elena herself. All because I was afraid of how my Mother's failing health would take it if she had found out that she wasn't her real daughter…wasn't my real sister.

How was I supposed to know that I would end up losing her either way?

_Oh God, what have I done? _

* * *

**Hey, are you guys still awake? Helloooo? *crickets***

**So it's not really incest, see? In the next chapter, we'll see their history, how Elena came into the family and their childhood. Imagine a 7 year-old Damon?! AWWWWW.**

**Many thanks to my new beta Mara (AnglcDmn1986) and pre-reader Kate (ThisIsMyEscape). Your support and enthusiasm for this story means the world to me. Please read their stories as they are both kick-ass authors, too!**

**Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!**

**And oh, I'd appreciate a review if you don't mind! In other words, DO IT, DO IT, DO IT! DON'T CLICK THE X!**

**Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2 - A Lesson in History

**Author's Notes: WOW, thank you for the amazing response and reviews so far. I see so many unfamiliar names that appeared in my review list. So beyond honored for all your support. Now I just hope that my old friends who were all there for my previous stories would show up and say hello, too. **

**Or maybe this era is not that interesting to them. Hey, Damon in any era is good for me, but that's just me - HORNY, HORNY, HORNY. Also, Damon with a British accent? SWOON! Somebody pass me some smelling salts!**

**Many thanks to my wonderful and patient beta, Mara. It's extremely fun to share some of my weirder ideas for this story over Facebook with you. MUCHAS GRACIAS & ORGASMS to you. (Guys, Mara is the author of Head Over Hoof among many other fantastic fics. If you have a Facebook account, feel free to like her author's page 'maraamillerfiction'.) **

**I hope this short chapter would provide much insight into their past. And no, Damon's not in love with a baby yet! What's wrong with you?! She still looks like ET! **

**Oh, and see if you can catch the not-so-subtle Lord Of The Rings quote. Peace out.**

* * *

**SINS OF OUR FATHERS – A Lesson in History**

* * *

_Chatsworth House, Derbyshire - 1848_

At the tender age of seven years and three months, I was a little dark-haired boy with a pale complexion, standing slightly higher than three feet tall. I was at the perfect height where I could wrap my arms around my mother's hips and have my head buried at the side of her extended belly, where my new sibling dwelled within.

I remembered staying exceptionally still as I had my face turned to the side, an ear pressed against her, willing for the baby to kick so I would know that it was awake. I was apprehensive at first when four months prior, Mother had sat me down on her lap and tucked me into the crook of her arms before announcing that I was about to have a brand new sibling.

"_But Mama, I still have yet to finish playing with the last one," I had responded with a frown, referring to my younger brother, Stefan who was born four years ago. _

"_Well, very soon you will _both_ have a new member of the family to play with," she laughed, smiling down at me so sweetly that I had temporarily forgotten to remind her that my brother was a nuisance most of the time. Nay, _all_ of the time. _

For three whole years, I had the undivided attention of my Mother's and the household staff's. Mother was so proud to show me off – her blue-eyed little angel, she had referred to me as we both shared the same exact shade of eye colour - and I was proud to let her. Father was hardly ever in the house for long periods of time, so we were both left to our own devices, forging our everlasting bond between a mother and her only child whom she had doted on. I would follow her everywhere she went, my hand held tightly in hers as she managed the house and the huge estate it sat on, along with her favorite garden that she herself tended to for hours at a time. I remembered sitting next to her being surrounded by her favorite flowers; the rose. It was a gift from my Father when they first got betrothed - a rose garden for the lovely Rosalyn "Rose" Salvatore.

And then my little brother was born. I was no longer the only young master Salvatore in the house, so it was inevitable that I had to watch from afar as my closest family member fussed over the newest Salvatore. Then, it was my toys that I had to share. And then that little brat had to be fed first, bathed first, sung to sleep first.

So, imagine my hesitation to learn that there was _yet_ another sibling that I had to share her with. The last one was nowhere near as fun as she had promised he would be, and he didn't even have a return policy!

"_Oh, don't pout, my little blue-eyed angel," she said soothingly when my lower lip jutted out at the thought, her soft fingers resting on my chin. "You are seven years old now, my dearest Damon. You are old enough to be head of the house since your Father is always gone. Don't you want to be a big brother once again?" _

_I mulled over that point, thinking that I _did_ somewhat enjoy bossing Stefan around on numerous occasions. "But Mama, I am already a big brother now. May I be _big_ big brother this time?" _

"_Yes, you may," she laughed again, her twinkling chuckle immediately putting me at ease. "And as big big brother, do you want to be let in on a secret?"_

_Her angelic voice had lowered significantly at her question as she made a show of casting furtive looks about her as if afraid of being overheard. I braced myself and nodded, my eyes widened in suspense. _

"_I don't know how I know this for certain, but I can tell that it is a girl!" she exclaimed with a joyous grin on her glowing face. _

_I didn't share her enthusiasm. "A girl?! But they're nasty, and peculiar looking, aren't they?"_

"_Oh dear, I take offence to that," she replied me with a severe headshake. "I used to be a little girl, too. Do you find _your_ mother nasty and peculiar looking, hmm?" _

"_No, Mama, you are the most beautifullest girl in all the land. Even the seas, though I have not seen one yet. I do want baby sister to look just like you if at all possible. Otherwise, I do not see how I can love her as much as I love you," I complimented timidly as I cast a tentative grin towards her, missing front teeth and all. _

_It was true, though. I had not met another woman quite like my mother, with her long flowing hair as dark as mine, her translucent skin that always appeared radiant and smooth with naturally pink cheeks. It was her eyes, though, that stood out amongst her striking features; a color that reminded me of sparkling clear water in a pool that reflected the heavens above. _

_I've been told on numerous occasions that I bore a striking resemblance to her, a fact that I was particularly proud of. I was secretly relieved that I looked nothing like my father, an old grouchy man with mossy green eyes and a slightly crooked nose. My little brother was not quite as fortunate as I was, though, for he bore a closer resemblance to the man, right down to the color of their eyes. _

_Her arms enclosed me even tighter against her as she rocked me in them. "My little charmer, you. Although, 'beautifullest' is not a word, but I shall pretend I didn't hear it because you've been such a darling boy! Never ever doubt how much I love you, all right?"_

_I nodded in relief and returned her grin, feeling that all was right in my world again, for I remained her favourite of her two boys. I didn't even feel a pinch of guilt towards my brother, as Father favoured him over me. Perhaps the same colours tended to flock together, as it pertained to the colour of our eyes. _

"_If 'tis indeed a girl, Mama, are you pleased, then?"_

_I would never forget the beaming smile she bestowed on me then, the way her face lit up, her skin flushed in a gorgeous pink hue and how the sun glinted off her wavy dark locks swept up in an elegant bun. "'Tis all I've ever wished for, my Damon. I have two very handsome boys and now I get to have my own little princess to complete our family. Everything is just perfect. I have never been happier."_

_I released a loud snort as I pondered over what she said. "Handsome? But Stefan rather resembles a billy goat!" I objected in disgust. "And his eyes, Mama, they remind me of those horrible tasting brussel sprouts. He must be a descendant of some foul vegetable from our greenhouse!" _

_The sound of Mama's twinkling laughter in response was the highlight of my days with her, all before the catastrophe that would befall on us in a matter of months. _

* * *

_(Two months later)_

"Nay, I do not want any more laudanum! Please, _where_ is she? I demand to see her!"

For the last two hours, I had been stealing glances at the grandfather clock, watching the longer needle make its circular motion, counting down each second until the circle began anew. I could barely stop myself from fidgeting with apprehension as continued screams from my parents' suite drifted down to where me and my little brother, Stefan, who was sitting next to our governess a little ways from where I was, sat in the daytime nursery.

The screaming had started the previous night, alarming the entire household while I was forced to stay in my bedroom, having being expressly forbidden to make my way to my mother's side. I had never felt more helpless, more afraid of anything in my life.

"M-master Damon, please, it is imperative that we try to concentrate on your lessons," Miss Bree pleaded worriedly, keeping one eye on me while attempting to placate a sobbing Stefan who had buried his head in her lap at the sound of our mother's distress. There was no doubt that all three of our attention was nowhere near the sheets of parchments spread out on the table.

A muffled feminine voice I recognized as Miss Pearl, my Mother's personal maid, answered her tormented cries, which then prompted her to lament, "Does Giuseppe even _know_ that his daughter was born four weeks ahead of schedule? Or is he too distracted by his whores to even remember that he has a _responsibility_ to his family? I need my h-h-husband here! He needs to bring me our daughter!"

My heart twisted in pain as I heard the anguish in her voice. The _baby_? My little sister had arrived? How dare they keep her away from my mother! I turned to Miss Bree with a pleading look on my face, wringing my small hands in front of me.

"I'm certain my lessons can wait, Miss Bree. My Mama needs me and I know just the very thing that may cheer her up."

Without waiting for a dismissal, I dashed out of the nursery as fast as my legs could carry me, my mind focused on my destination; the rose garden. I negotiated my way past all the narrow hallways, avoiding several maids who were hurrying towards the moaning cries, carrying armfuls of sheets. I finally managed to burst through a set of double doors and found myself surrounded by sweet-smelling flowers. I made my way to the centre where my mother's favourite variety grew.

Moments later, with my arms laden with purple colored roses, I gingerly made my way upstairs only to be met by a harassed looking Giles, _Rupert_ Giles, our butler. He was standing at rapt attention just outside my parents' suite, his forehead creased in a worried frown as he listened to the sounds coming from within. Then, his eyes fell on me, standing awkwardly by his side with a determined expression on my face.

"Master Damon!" he greeted in alarm, his expression one of shock to see me holding out a bunch of flowers to him. "You shouldn't be up here. Your father-"

"-is not here!" I burst out indignantly, feeling upset at the absent man who should be at home with my mother, who clearly needed him more than his friend named Whores or a similar name that I heard her utter moments before. "He is _never_ here. _I'm_ the head of the house now and I say that Mama needs some flowers, _purple_ ones to show how much we all royally love her. Then perhaps she would stop crying!"

I managed to evade his outstretched hands as he reached for me and I quickly entered my parents' bedchambers, not knowing what to expect. I stopped short at the sight of my dear mother's pale face contorted in agony, her cheeks wet with tears as she was being held down by Miss Pearl and two other servants while another elderly woman bent over her.

"Unhand my mother and step away if you value your lives," I threatened, wielding the stalks of roses in front of me as I would a sword.

My presence managed to provide a distraction as several heads swivelled over to where I stood, their expressions one of surprise at the sight of a wee lad glaring daggers at them in what I hoped was an intimidating manner.

"Damon, oh thank God you came," came a relieved sob from the middle of the bed.

I ran over to her, flinging my arms around her shoulders protectively as the flowers I brought her scattered around her on the bed, left forgotten now that I could see that she was relatively unharmed. The arms that had held her down to the mattress fell away as she calmed in my presence, providing me with a clear view of the woman whom I love more than anyone in the world.

Gone was the healthy glow of her skin, in its place now a sickly pallor, her eyes appearing dark and sunken as if she hadn't slept in days. Her luscious dark hair was now drenched in sweat and hung limp and in wild disarray around her shoulders. She was dressed in a loose-fitting nightgown even though it was already sunny outside, which was sticking to her sweat-slicked skin.

"Mama, are you unwell? Is that why you needed some laudi-launa-la-di-dum-dum?" I wondered aloud, my tongue unable to pronounce the unfamiliar word.

"Laudanum," corrected the elderly woman with a kind face, the one who had been crouched over my mother earlier. "It's for the pain."

Mama was in pain?! Before I could stage a protest, my weak mother shook her head vigorously and implored, "No, no! They make me drowsy and then they wouldn't let me see the baby...please, oh please, find her and let me see her."

"Where is my sister?" I demanded at the elderly woman. "Where have you hidden her? Return her at once!"

My firm request was met with stony silence from the rest of the room, the servants averting their gaze as they murmured among themselves. "Master Damon," Miss Pearl spoke up after a lengthy pause except for my mother's continued sobs and muttered pleas to see her daughter. "There were some complications and-and we-

"Everybody clear out _now_," a booming voice came from the entrance of the suite, startling everyone in the room.

My head turned to see my father's wrathful expression as he strode in with unchecked fury, his jaws tightening as he kept his steely green eyes on my mother's maid. "Pearl, if you are quite through with gossiping with my son, kindly ask a footman to show the midwife out before ensuring that my wife is tended to and that her appearance befits a duchess of her station."

His commanding presence did what my meagre threat did not; the room emptied except for his faithful butler and myself, who was still hugging my mother tightly as if I could absorb her pain if I never let go.

"Giuseppe," she cried out in relief, her face crumpling again when he approached the bed. "Our daughter...they took her away..."

I watched, apprehensive as he sat on the edge of the bed on the other side of my mother, taking her hands in his. "Giles...take my son downstairs to resume his lessons," he instructed the older man without even a glance at me.

The elderly man bowed and came over to gently pry my hands away from her, ignoring my struggling attempts to stay by her side.

"No, let me go, you big oaf!" I yelled at Giles before pinning my gaze at my father whose brows had furrowed with disapproval. My brows weren't as thick or bushy as his were, but I tried my hardest to flash him my most indignant look that I could muster. "I'm staying! You weren't even here when Mama needed you. _I'll_ search for little sister while you visit Whores or whatever your friend's name is!"

"Enough!" Father roared out, his expression now thunderous. It was completely unfair how as an adult, his lungs were so much more powerful than my underdeveloped ones. I was simply no match to this one-sided shouting contest. "I do _not_ like repeating myself. Go on before I take you over my knees for disobedience. Giles, keep the boys away from this room until I say otherwise."

To my disappointment, I felt tears of frustration blurring my vision despite my determination to be a good _big_ big brother to my missing sister and a supportive son to my mother. My lower lip trembled uncontrollably but I stubbornly held back my tears while I allowed Giles led me out with a firm grip of my shoulders with great reluctance.

"Master Damon-"

It was the elderly butler's gentle tone that did me in. Pressing both fists against my pinched-shut eyes, I released a muffled sob as my feet refused to budge any further than the carpeted hallway right outside the door. Instantly, I felt two arms enclosing me into a hug, the tall and distinguished man kneeling beside me as he pulled my head to rest on his broad shoulder.

I felt ashamed of myself, for my tears and for allowing my father to deny my mother's need for my presence and assistance. "I'm sorry I called you a big oaf, Giles," I mumbled apologetically into his tear-stained jacket.

"Do not concern yourself with such trivial matters, Master Damon. One must not heed anything said in anger as it is 'a wind that blows out the lamp of the mind'," he quoted kindly, giving me a reassuring pat on the back.

At times, he seemed more fatherly and understanding than my own father could ever be. It was a disappointing thought. "I meant what I said to Father, though. He spends so little time here with Mama, and he left her all alone last night when she was unwell. Now, little sister is missing and he isn't even the least bit curious where she could be hiding. _He_ is the big oaf and that is the _nicest_ thing I can say about him," I declared with a sniff.

Giles sighed before pulling my head off his shoulder to peer down at me with sorrow-filled eyes. "There is much you do not know, young master. Sadly, it is not my position to enlighten you unless His Grace decides otherwise. Now-"

"Nay! Nay, you lie!"

The scream came from within the bedchamber we had just vacated, cutting off the rest of Giles' words as we both straightened up hastily. "She is not d-dead, you hear me? You have taken her from me, you-you scoundrel! Is it not enough that mistress of yours has taken you from me and your sons? Now she wants to deprive me of my baby girl, too? Have you given our daughter to that home wrecker? _Have_ you? Do not even _consider_ lying to me!"

I stiffened in alarm at my mother's raised voice, her accusations too shocking for me to fully comprehend. I could sense her distress even through the thick wooden doors that separated me from her, and it was only by sheer fear that I remained rooted on the spot.

"Rose, listen to me, please. Our daughter is dead! She died at birth last night and-and w-what are you doing? Put that down, Rose, you'll hurt yourself!"

The sound of glass breaking assailed our ears and Giles crashed through the bedroom doors in the next instant, leaving me standing outside on my own, shaking from head to toe. I was a mere boy of seven years, confused beyond words at what I had imagined to be a chaotic scene inside that room. Talks about death, of mistresses...they were all foreign to me. All I knew was that Mother was in danger.

"Don't lie to me, Giuseppe. I can't bear it," came her wounded wail and that spurred me into action.

Somehow, I found the courage to move forward until I was hiding behind one of the pillars in their bedroom, my gaze riveted at the sight of my father's arm wrapped around my mother's waist as she collapsed against him, crying violently as he held her bleeding wrist with his other hand.

My rapidly thudding heart drowned out the rest of the sound in the room, the persistent beats sounding unnaturally loud in my ears as I watched with unblinking eyes at what had become a slow-motion scene. Giles was shouting...something as he wrapped a towel around her hand, and that was when I saw a long and jagged edge of a piece of glass on the floor next to them. Then, Pearl rushed in, accompanied by several other servants, including my father's valet, Randy. They paid me no heed as I watched everything from my slightly hidden vantage point.

I saw it all. And then sound returned to my ears again and I could hear Father's soft vow to my mother: "I'll make everything right again. I promise you this, my love."

* * *

I didn't say a word of what I saw to anyone. I remained uncharacteristically quiet in the days that followed that scene that would forever be imprinted in my mind. I didn't understand most of it and mostly, I was too afraid to ask.

Things had relatively calmed down when the town's best physician, Doctor Maxfield, was summoned. He was a close personal friend of Father's, I knew, and one that was certain to provide the best care for my mother. Then I started noticing several odd occurrences in the house, like missing servants, for instance while two days later, a brand new arrival of replacements had showed up at the staff entrance. Coincidentally, the servants that had been replaced were those that were working at the time of Mama's emotional outburst. The higher-ranking staff, like Giles, Pearl and Randy seemed tensed, well, much more than usual.

To my utmost surprise, Father spent most of his time in the suite with my mother, never once leaving the house to carry on with his other affairs. Other times, he was in his study with Giles where they had discreet meetings behind locked doors for hours. When they re-emerged again, Giles would have a stack of sealed correspondences that were immediately dispatched and similarly, numerous letters started arriving in the next few days, all which were carried up directly into his study.

I managed to sneak into my parents' suite during those opportune moments where Father was otherwise occupied and Pearl had gone to the kitchen to fill a tray of food, all just to catch a glimpse of my elusive mother who seemed to be either asleep or curled up on a winged-back chair, staring intently at a wall. She didn't seem to notice my presence except for that _one_ time, when I dared to venture closer, thinking that she was resting only to find that she was muttering to herself with her eyes shut.

"Don't stare at me so, 'tis terribly disconcerting," she said while cradling some item in her arms.

"I-I apologize, Mama, I thought that you were asleep," I replied, moving to stand right beside her as her eyes snapped open.

"Oh, 'tis you, my darling angel," she expressed with a soft sigh, looking relieved to see me.

I allowed my young eyes to peruse over her features and down to her bandaged wrist, noting that she seemed better than when I last saw her.

"I wasn't admonishing you, my darling, but at the walls," she indicated to a spot right in front of her, her hand constantly stroking the item she was holding, which appeared to be a bundle of thick-woven blankets. "The wallpapers seem to be having a bad day, don't you think? The way they are staring at me with disapproval as if I've done something bad to them."

I turned to pay attention at the yellow swirly patterns on the walls, fully expecting to find a pair of eyes narrowing at us, but there was nothing sinister there. "The w-wallpapers, Mama? Do they even have eyes?"

"They can hear you, you know? And they see _everything_, even things that you do not want them to see. They whisper, too, of things both known and unknown," she went on cryptically.

A shiver ran down my spine as I peered harder at the walls. I wondered if they knew what I knew.

"How are you feeling, Mama?"

My question seemed to cheer her up because she then reached out to pull me over to take a seat next to her, flashing me an exhausted smile. "I'm tired all the time, but that's only because little Elena refuses to go to sleep! Isn't that right, my precious little doll?"

I looked down in alarm as she started cooing at the blankets, treating it as if there was something in there. Did Father buy her a new doll, one that had to be wrapped in a blanket?

"Mama, who is Elena?"

Her face fell slightly but then she quickly recovered when she lowered her arms and presented 'Elena' to me. "Why, your baby sister, of course! Isn't she the most precious thing you've ever laid eyes on?"

I recoiled in fear as I shot to my feet. That 'precious thing' my mother showed me? There was nothing in it. My baby sister was a plain old quilt, one that had been draped over my mother when I brought her favourite purple rose to cheer her up days ago.

Denial rose to my lips as a devastating thought dawned on me: Rosalyn Salvatore, my beloved mother, had gone insane.

* * *

I wished that things had turned out differently. I wished that bad things didn't happen to good people, especially one that had the heart of an angel like my mother. I wished that I could undo the past one week as if they never happened. But I didn't have the power or the capabilities to do so. Apparently, my father didn't share such sentiments.

As usual, Stefan and I were in the daytime nursery for yet another one of our endless lessons with Miss Bree. I suspected that it wasn't because Father was concerned about our education, but rather that he didn't know what to do with two boys who had been prohibited to spend time with their mother. So Miss Bree was sent to fulfil the role of a babysitter rather than a governess.

And as usual, not unlike the past sennight, I was having difficulty concentrating on perfecting my mathematical skills on a slate in my hand. My attention, however, was increasingly focused on the goings-on outside the room, particularly when the sound of a door knocker echoed throughout the ground floor of the house.

Moments later, I heard the sound of footsteps hurrying along the hallway right outside the nursery and men's voices moving closer as they passed the opened doorway. I straightened in my chair, my ears straining to hear a snippet of the conversation between Giles and whoever it was that arrived on our doorstep.

"-wife to the cholera outbreak and I am at a loss at what to do. When I received news of the duke's search, I immediately sold everything I had left to be able to afford the journey here. Is the rumour of a reward true? I-I owe some money to some unsavoury people, and if I don't pay up by the morrow, I could very well be heading to a debtor's gaol! Those people are not to be trifled with!"

Flashing a quick glance over to the governess, I sneakily stood up and inched my way to the doorway when she had her back turned. I poked my head out briefly to see our butler and a poorly dressed man stopping at the foot of the stairs.

"Mister Gilbert, I can assure you that His Grace, the Duke of Devonshire, will compensate you handsomely in exchange for your sacrifice as well as your absolute discretion, of course. That is, provided he is satisfied after a thorough medical examination of-" Giles replied in hushed tones but the rest of their conversation was fading fast as they ascended the stairs.

"Master Damon," Miss Bree called out, making me jerk back guiltily. "Have you finished solving the problem?"

I shook my head sadly, thinking that the 'problem' was getting too complicated to be solved by my young mind. With a resigned sigh, I returned to my chair, staring morosely at the slate in my hand.

* * *

"Damon, wake up!"

I stirred from a restless sleep to find two bright green eyes peering at me from the side of my bed. "What is it?" I mumbled sleepily as I attempted to pry my heavy lids open at the sound of my little brother's voice.

"It's Father! He sent Randy to say that he has a surprise waiting for us in the night nursery," Stefan announced excitedly, bouncing lightly on his feet. "A surprise, brother! Perhaps Father bought us a new horsey!"

A horse in the nursery? Imagine the droppings on the floor of that small room. I pursed my lips in doubt, but it was refreshing to see him so eager and happy after the week we had of our mother's absence. How quickly he seemed to have forgotten about being so afraid for our mother as week ago. At time, I envied my little brother's obliviousness to the state of her health. I wished I could be so lucky.

So, it was with a mixture of trepidation and anticipation that I led the way through the Tapestry Gallery with my little brother in tow, his small hand clasped in mine. We waited just outside the doors to the night nursery, awaiting the announcement of our arrival from a footman who was stationed there.

"Ah, young masters," Randy greeted as he came upon us when he exited from the room with a slight smile on his face. "His and Her Grace are waiting for you."

The doors opened, admitting one very excited boy and another slightly guarded boy, both still in our nightclothes. Whatever it was that I expected that morning, it was far beyond my imagination. We walked in to find our mother seated on a long chaise in front of a large window, the morning sun streaming through it to cast a warm glow over her. Our father, tall and foreboding, stood slightly behind her, his attention focused on a familiar item in her arms; that quilt.

Stefan pried his hand from mine and ran over to her, exclaiming loudly how much he had missed her. I stood back, watching her smile at him before leaning down to envelope him with one of her arms and pressing a brief kiss on his flushed cheek. I missed seeing her smile, to be honest. The heaviness in my chest disappeared as soon as I saw how serene she had seemed right then. But that quilt still worried me a little.

Then she finally noticed me and her expression softened further when her eyes met mine. I liked to think that she only had that look especially for me, her eldest and probably most beloved of her two boys. I hoped so, at least.

"Come here, my darling. There's someone I would like you and Stefan to meet," her soft voice drifted to me and then as she looked down at the bundle of cloth, a sense of déjà vu hit me. It reminded me of that haunting incident in her bedroom, with the ever-watchful wallpapers and make-believe little sister.

I simply could not believe that my father had not put a stop to it, let alone play a role in encouraging my mother's ongoing dementia. I half-expected him to speak up when I approached hesitatingly, but he simply patted her shoulder and nodded encouragingly at me.

"Is it a horsey? Why is it so tiny?" my brother asked eagerly, leaning in closer to see.

"No, my little cub," she chuckled, lifting her arms at an angle in order to give us a better view. "_This_ is Elena Anne Salvatore, your little sister."

I gasped when instead of an empty space between the folds of the quilt, I saw a wriggling tiny person nestled in them. I rubbed both my eyes and blinked several times, unwilling to believe what I was seeing. There it was, a living, breathing and yawning little baby with dark brown hair atop a chubby heart-shaped face.

_Have we _all_ gone mad? Did the rest of my family joined Mama in her pretend-world? _

"Oh," Stefan expressed with a disappointed look. Then he extended a finger to poke at the resting baby. "What does it do? May I ride on it? Does it perform any tricks?"

A loud wail answered him in return and I watched in amusement when he reared back in shock as the tiny face in Mother's arms turned red as it crumpled up at the disturbance. Turned out, the baby _did_ perform a trick on my brother; she was able to scare him silly with just one loud sound.

"Oh dear, shh, shh, my perfect little angel. Go back to sleep," Mama cooed and rocked the crying infant, attempting to calm her down to no avail. Perhaps little Stefan broke her, like how he broke most of my favourite toys. I couldn't help but wished that he would be sent to his room with no breakfast. Nor elevenses, luncheon, afternoon tea, dinner and supper.

Her little cries went on for a while despite my mother's efforts, testing the limits of Father's patience. So much for fatherhood. "Yes, perhaps that's enough excitement for one day. Shall I send for Bree to look after the baby now?" he asked her, looking ready to be far from his bawling…daughter?

That thought prompted me to consider the many questions that plagued me after the initial shock of meeting the baby for the first time. Questions as it pertained to the origin of her existence and how she happened to appear at our house at this exact time. Did her arrival have anything to do with that mysterious man who knocked on our door the day before? Was Mama right about Father lying about the baby, that he took her away to give to someone else? A person named Mistress?

And the most important question of all: Was she even real or merely a figment of our imagination? I had to find out.

"May I hold her, Father?"

My parents turned to stare at me quizzically, and then Mama nodded and made a space beside her on the lounge, gesturing me over to sit by her. Once she had me properly positioned, she gently lowered Elena into my awaiting hands, supporting her head while I become accustomed to the additional weight. She was a sturdy one, much heavier than anything else I had my hands on.

She _felt_ real, all right.

"Does it bite?" Stefan enquired anxiously from over the armrest of the chair.

"_She's_ not an animal, brother," I scolded at his ridiculous question, my eyes taking in the figure in front of me.

By some miracle, she quieted down when she heard my voice in such close proximity to her, her eyes now opened as she frowned at my unfamiliar face. I performed my own inventory of her features; her adorable little button nose, her pointed chin, her tiny pink lips that were pursed up and then I noticed them…her eyes. They were an indecipherable shade of color, quite unlike my blue or Stefan's green. In fact, they actually had a hint of timber-tint, not unlike the color of a wet tree trunk on a rainy day. They were absolutely gorgeous.

"Hello, little sister," I whispered, and then I was rewarded when the tiny brunette's lips tugged on one corner, taking on a lopsided smile that immediately captured my heart.

"Huh, I would have much preferred a brand new horsey instead. At least horseys are pretty to look at. _This_ one doesn't even do much," Stefan grumbled loudly, ruining my bonding moment with the newest addition to our family.

The green-eyed people in my family were very much idiots, it seemed like. I found myself praying fervently that little Elena Anne Salvatore would not take after them as she grows up. 'Twould be a shame if I should feel the urge to knock her teeth out, too.

* * *

**So, four-year old Stefan's kind of a douchebag. Yeah.**

**In the next chapter, we'll see how Elena's like as a toddler and slowly grow up into a rebellious young lady who seems to have a knack of landing in hot water and dragging both her brothers along with her. I can't wait for you all to officially 'meet' ELENA. She's quite a handful. **

**But you'll be happy to know that she makes it a career to piss the hell out of Giuseppe! **

**Please read and review, if you don't mind. Even if you DO mind, review anyway to tell me the ways in which you mind. Don't be shy to tell me to fly kite as well, but do it in a review. No naughty words, though. They make me high as a kite. Unless that's your aim. **

**I'm nothing if not incredibly giving, so I would like to impart some valuable knowledge to my readers. I was sitting on my toilet, peeing regularly and then I burst out laughing. The sheer force of my urine….suffice it to say that my toilet bowl was not happy with me. That, my grossed out friends, is what they call added pressure. P-R-E-S-S-U-R-E. Quite unlike what happens at work except sometimes that makes you pee, too, I guess. **

**My twitter: cgsa_cher or Cher Sue. Well, look at that. That's my username on fanfiction, too! What are the odds? :P**


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